Thirty miles from Talladega back in the spring of ‘84
Momma raised us by the Good Book and kept a 12 gauge by the door
People said that she was crazy, livin’ out there on the farm
Had a spit cup on the dashboard and Bear Bryant tattooed on her arm.
(Chorus 1)
That’s just country like the dogwoods and the pine trees growin’ wild
Like a red dirt on a little barefoot child, it’s kinda funny
That’s just country, like the fiddles in the music that we love
Like the reckless streak that running through our blood
That’s just country.
Daddy got up every morning, headed straight out to the field
Workin’ hard to make a dollar when times were tough and life was real
Then he’d come home in the evening, an aching back and a troubled mind
Watch the sun fade in the west sky, sinkin’ down beneath the pines.
(Repeat Chorus 1)
Grandma made us cathead biscuits, ham and chicken, always fried
Sop it up with red eye gravy, a stick of butter on the side
Then I’d pull out that old guitar, bend some strings and pick a tune
Play a little mountain music, beneath an Alabama moon.
(Chorus 2 )
That’s just country, like a freight train just a rollin’ down the track
Like them dusty boots and faded old straw hats, it’s kinda funny
That’s just country, like turnip greens and momma’s homemade pie
Well I reckon I’ll be downhome ‘til I die
That’s just country.
(Repeat Chorus 1)
